Whose Monsters Are Real
by LizAnn
Summary: He'd been lying dormant for a year. Traumatized and frightened, Sara is the only lead to finding his new victim. Hotch and the team must help Sara come to terms with what happened to her so that she can unlock the memories that will help build the profile


None of the recognizable characters belong to me and no money is being made from this story.

Chapter 1: Persistence of Memory

"Who is it?" through the door…a hesitant voice laden with over-caution and mistrust.

"Agent Hotchner and Dr. Reid with the FBI," Aaron answered, holding his badge up in front of the peephole. He waited a moment. Spencer shifted his weight next to him.

"May we come in and talk to you Sara?"

"Th-there's no one here by that name. You've g-got the wrong apartment."

Hotch and Reid exchanged glances. She'd done a lot to hide herself, to disappear into a new life, but it took much more to hide from Penelope Garcia, their technical analyst.

"Sara Tate, now known as Teresa Ammons…we need to talk to you," Hotch said, keeping his voice raised slightly to be heard through the door.

"I don…I'm busy right now," still through the door, though they could hear the fear creeping into her voice.

Reid reached up, as if he were going to put his hand on the door, but pulled back at the last moment. "Sara -- Sara, we need to talk to you about what happened. We…we think he may have taken someone else. Please."

On the other side of the door, Sara rested her head against it, a jolt of adrenaline made her heart race. She felt her eyes burn with sudden tears as things she'd been working so hard to just get away from and _forget _came flooding back. Finally, feeling as if the last year was crashing over her again, she made fingers numb with remembered fear disengage the three locks…and she opened the door.

"Thank you Sara," Hotch said, keeping his voice gentle. None of her face was visible, just the top of her head, long shining honey-blonde hair parted down the middle. "May we come in?"

Sara stepped back and turned away. Hotch and Reid entered the comfortably decorated apartment, taking in the surroundings quickly, and then focusing their attention on the young woman, who still had her head bowed.

"Lock it please," Sara said. Reid obligingly threw the deadbolt. They took in the way she had her arms crossed tightly over her, the way she seemed to hold herself stiffly and, at the same time, slightly hunch her shoulders in on herself, and, most telling, the way she kept her face averted, as if she just couldn't bring herself to look at the people who had been there when she was rescued…_the people who had seen her naked and bleeding and blindfolded, injured and so terrified she was catatonic and though they'd spoken softly to her, and covered her, and told her she was safe and they wouldn't hurt her, she'd continued shaking and tears slipped down her cheeks as she cringed away from their touch. They didn't have Emily or JJ with them…they hadn't expected to find a victim there at all. _

_They weren't even looking for her._

_Hotch had spoken softly to her while Reid had undone the restraints from her arms and legs, moving quickly around the stirrup chair, and then helping her to sit up and protectively wrapping his sweater around her. In the background she heard someone shout for an ambulance. Hotch removed her blindfold, and she'd blinked in the bright light. Her deep blue eyes shone with feverish intensity, fear and panic apparent in their depths. Taking in the room around her, she'd been quickly overcome with the need to hide as police officers swarmed in the small space, and she'd started gasping as overwhelmingly claustrophobic feelings caused her to desperately grasp Hotch's arm and press her face against his shoulder, squeezing her eyes closed._

_Hotch had effortlessly picked her up and carried her out of there. She wouldn't allow herself to be strapped on the gurney…panicked, even, at the thought. Someone called for Hotch's attention, and Hotch looked at Reid as he helped her climb in to the ambulance and sit on the gurney. "Take care of her. I'll meet you at the hospital."_

"How are you doing?" Reid asked. Sara glanced up, a funny, quirky half-smile on her face, giving them a glimpse of the personality that still lived underneath the lingering fear.

"I'm alive and living," she said quietly. "I'm doing okay." She paused. "Or I was. How did you find me?"

"Can we sit down?" Hotch asked.

"Sure. Can I get you anything?" Wanting to give her as much control as possible, Hotch and Reid agreed.

"Whatever you have. Thank you." Reid glanced at Hotch, catching his eye with a questioning look. Hotch nearly imperceptibly shook his head. _'She's not ok.'_

Sara came back to the family room with glasses of iced tea. She settled herself in an overstuffed chair sideways, so that she was facing the two agents who sat on the couch. She pulled her knees up, hesitated, then pulled a throw-blanket around her, clasping her hands around her legs. She stared at her knees, refusing to meet their eyes.

She could not have assumed a more defensive posture.

"I never saw his face," Sara said directly. She knew why they were there. There was no reason to beat around the bush. Hotch took the cue and was just as direct.

"You heard his voice. You can describe his manner. You weren't blindfolded the whole time. You could tell us about the way he moved, what…" Hotch hesitated slightly and Reid glanced at him, unused to any hesitation from the agent. "You can tell us what his body looks like."

Reid watched the color drain from Sara's face as Hotch talked. She kept her eyes down, but he could see tears starting to well in her eyes.

"Sara," Reid said softly. "You were with him for ten days. He's had Alison for just two. You could help bring her home."

Sara blinked and wiped the tears from her face with shaking hands.

"Why do you need to know that stuff? How can it possibly help?"

"Knowing all we can about the unsub – the suspect – can help us put together a profile that can make it easier to find him, to find people who know him who can lead us to him. If we can understand him, if we can empathize with him, we will have a better chance of being able to figure out where to find him next…and where to find her…and then throw him in jail so he can never, ever do this again."

Sara rested her head on her knees, looking out the window. She was quiet for a long time. They let her have the silence.

"I've worked so, so hard to forget," she said, her voice wavering and thick with tears. "And I can still feel his…" she clenched and shook, swallowing hard. "…his hands on me."

Hotch leaned forward slightly. "Sara," he said. "You're not going to be able to make yourself forget…and that's going to keep you from moving on. He's still has you right now. He has you afraid to use your own name, afraid to turn the light off to go to sleep, afraid to go to the grocery store…and as long as he has you afraid, he has you."

"Help us catch him," Reid said, quietly. "And that will help you, too."

Sara turned her head to look at them, and both agents – as used as they were to dealing with victims – felt sorrow at the defeated look in her eyes.

"What if you don't catch him?"

Hotch looked at her…his dark eyes holding her strikingly blue ones.

"We will."


End file.
